Drum God
by Light Breaks Dawn
Summary: Leo. She'd be running on walls and kicking jaws, chopping shoulders and flying about the air sending a kick down. But who ever knew all these can end up crashing on an loud instrument, too? She finds fame and justice upon herself with two mere sticks.
1. Prologue

Cities.

Sometimes, the bigger they are, the bigger my fear becomes. Though sometimes, meaning not always, I come to grow fond on how drastically it had changed for the win. Modernization was the one thing I can't ever whine to, more or less, live with the people who strove to build corporations and oodles and oodles of god knows what under the same roof.

My mom... let's just say she wasn't opposed to the deal. Actually, while I was out with Dad down under, she was out trying to facilitate her workers down at G Corporation's department somewhere in Tokyo, Japan.

So I bet some of you know how this story goes. Luckily for me, I wouldn't have to tell, because by then I would've raged on about it, and how it truly meant for me to find out that great son of a gun who exploded my mother.

I went back to Germany a couple of days after the Sixth Tournament; it wasn't nice and I didn't get to see Kazuya's downfall that dreadful night. But hey, there're always second chances. For me, there were myriads. I just had to find out how to jump on them.

So here, I'm living with my grandmother for the whole stay, milk and cookies surely tackling me once I arrived. It's pretty awesome. The countryside life has never been exciting like this ever before.

* * *

One night as I strolled above the grass, I came to view Grandma's tool shed. Since it wasn't clear, the moonlight became the source of my illumination. Creaking the door open, I saw memories topping off each other as dust bunnies squeezed through the edges and spaces.

Right now, the window's transparency aided the piercing of the light; I had seen so much.

My old drum set was still there; almost good as new, if it weren't for the particles that surrounded it. Still went perfectly fine the way I laid my eyes on the beauty.

I pressed a finger on it as I swept across its surface, tapping the cymbals with the shortness of my fingernail, dropping few of the dust it had accumulated.

How it brought back memories, no one knows what this did to me when I was still a pre-teen.

* * *

**A/N:** Any comments about the base of the building? Ha ha ha. I'll be posting some soon at least until this gets a lot of views and all. Don't hesitate to drop by a review! I'm always welcome to suggestions, as well. Minimal flaming, please!


	2. Tweedle Dums in Dating Old Drums

**A/N: **Okay, so I've been meaning to formulate a likable and sufficient-to-my-yearnings story about Leo individually. Hence, here it goes. I know I'm... pretty much all over the place in story writing, but this is it. I went through it. I swear.

**Disclaimer: **Standard disclaimer applies. Owned characters in this fic are stated, otherwise.

**Summary: **Everyone knows Leo Kliesen, the (orphaned) spunky spelunker of the century from Germany. She'd be running on walls and kicking jaws, chopping shoulders and flying about the air sending a kick down. But who ever knew all these can end up crashing on an loud instrument, too? No one. And this is where she builds it up, taking turns in balancing her fate with (possibly) finding fame and finding justice upon herself.

* * *

"Drums all have their own particulars - each drum has a place where they sound the best - where they ring out and resonate the best, and the head surface isn't too loose or too tight, mainly so you get a good rebound off of the head."

_**Chad Smith**_

* * *

**Drum God**

**Chapter One: Deedle Dums in Dating Old Drums**

"Bongos, huh. Well," Leo Kliesen silently held a conversation with her own self as she answered a special issue of _Wöchentliche Kreuzworträtsel_ (Crosswords Weekly) whereas every week, they dedicate it to music aspirants elsewhere in Germany. It was only now, since her stay at Germany, that she has gotten another copy of it to pass the time. "Odd pick, but okay."

Relaxing her butt under the old oak tree had never felt so soothing and so boring, especially around Fall Season; it was rather windy that afternoon. Then again, students murmuring all throughout different points of the multipurpose area did sound fun-increasing with what she's doing.

The nineteen-year-old daughter of a famous spelunker slouched her back (so much for a better posture) as she twisted her pencil around her fingers, then to a pen spin called 'Charge'. Too bad she couldn't help herself in one place in figuring out what went next to the sequence. "Darn." She clicked her tongue, rubbing the strong German jaw line with the nub of her pencil eraser.

As she was about to guess, a woman with moderate build and hair colored soft brown approached her, squatting merely to see what Leo was doing on a time of break. "We're planning to bake _berliner_ now that the Acquaintance Party's over. Want to come?" The girl was filled with such light and glee; if Leo wasn't "busy", she'd have had nothing to hold her back. The only thing was... she happened to be just slightly.

Leo flicked her hair aside, tilting her head shortly after her thoughts have been sure. "I'd skip on this one, Ellaine. I guess you guys could... save me some dough for when I make some?" Mmm, the androgynous female would have hungered herself just bearing to see them make a whole batch rather than for herself. Her hands were fast, admittedly.

Ellaine scratched her head, pouting a lip outward at the denial of request. It was evident she wanted to, no doubt in that. "Well... I'd do that," She tapped the small book Leo held. "Be sure to finish that or we won't accept you not joining us."

Happily, Leo spared a chuckle. Closing the said book, she winked at the girl, nodding some. "Bet you I will in no time. Now hurry on to whatever it is you committee people have; don't have to care for me, thanks."

As soon as Ellaine acknowledge this, she saluted in a playful way, spinning heels before her and off she went. Leo had to be grateful for the kind friends she's been blessed with for the stay. Going back to University may not be a good choice as a starting point in her unfinished (and charred) life, but given the appropriate reason, Leo gladly made her sacrifices.

So far, she thought it worked fine.

* * *

"Leo! Welcome, baby; I just finished cooking you cream soup."

"That's great, Grandma," Leo had exchanged her reply, placing her backpack by the wooden table, more or less in a tired state (save for the relaxation brought by the wind and time). Her feet motioned towards Grandma Kliesen's cooking figure, adding her finishing touches. Leo showed her touch by pecking the elder on the cheek, resting a palm about her shoulder. "That smells scrumptious."

The elder nodded in thanks, taking a saucer meant for the younger as she took the time to let her nostrils savor the smell while it lasted. Holding it on her palms, she immediately shoved it on the counter, blowing her now-pinkish hands. "O-Ow... I wasn't cautioned about hotness!" Leo, despite the broken luck, chuckled it all outward.

With cloth to support, she hovered it towards the dining table, sat down, and then offered herself a spoonful for the afternoon. Little has it that her taste buds yearned for the succulent taste for quite some time. Grandma Kliesen just knew how that worked.

"Oh, I asked Fräulein Heussaff to clean out the drum set you had when you were in your teens. Seemed good as new the way she inspected it."

Dropping her spoon absent-mindedly, she shifted her weight on one thigh, looking at the elderly. "She... didn't dispose of it, did she? Is it still there? Cleaned? Polished?"

"Indeed it is, darling..." Her tone was smooth, yet considerate on how Leo would work upon knowing. As for Leo, it was as if she had come back to a thought previously present, only to be reminded by it, again.

* * *

Leo excused herself as she went over to the small of a tool shed, turning to the source of light she graciously acknowledged once before. Still dusty as it was; still in front of her, it was.

The red swirls it had on the outer skin of each drum gave way to how nostalgic it must've swept her. The unwed woman did such a generous job of prepping it up.

She took the liberty to have her seat by the (creaking) circular thing, taking the drumsticks she had wedged somewhere between the left and right toms. Crossed her fingers in hopes of it still working.

Her fidgety hands started out with an easy two-two beat, being able to hear herself and how rusty it all went. The snare drum certainly gathered her attention, same going with the ride and splash cymbals. How soothing it went; that's to her liking.

Then it came to the point her ears, after being raped so much by the wanted sound, paced it up a notch to a four-four beat, grinning as she saw how much potential she gained from rock crashing. Yes, she was into crashing rocks before it even occurred to her drumming was the secondary hobby for her.

Closing it with a last smash of the China cymbal (the loudest she could do), beads of sweat formed across the top of her forehead and to the sides of her temples. This guaranteed her sweat was, indeed, very happy. Discontented by the fact she had to sweat, letting it out with pure energy was just the start.

Immediately after the short session, she roared the shed, feeling hardcore and manic; from the span of how well she spent these years trying and striving for something she loved to do, how it crashed before her eyes—that was the biggest regret. Neglecting what she loved, then again, rather than neglecting her mother. She had to choose.

What seemed to be a rejoicing session transposed to a rather fast yet emotion-filled drum beats. Leo removed her red cardigan, threw it across the room as she paid no heed to how the beats usually are played and sounded, torturing the snare drum more than she could ever. Out of control, the German ended up slashing every cymbal there was. What kind of feeling it was, she wouldn't want to guess any further.

Behind her was the sturdy wall, which was used to lean on. Wanting to take a rest from all—Leo wanted solitary for once; the crashes of her drums being the only thing to make pealing noise.

Fading into rest, Leo could hear her raspy breathing, taking in the heat.

_**To be continued...**_

* * *

**Notes:**

A 2/2 beat's slower than a 4/4 beat, pace-wise.  
The China cymbal Leo clashed is normally what drummers go for when they finish drumming (or so I've noticed)

**A/N: **So far so good from where I'm standing! This is just a repost from the Tekken RP site I belong in. I appreciate their support there and hopefully I would receive such a positive vibe. It's fun writing Leo in a way she's neutral-made and and not like the other girls. Okay. I'll be posting the second one soon! Stay awesome and minimal flaming please.


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